


Now, Won't You Believe Me?

by mvllorylvngdon



Category: American Horror Story
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Sanctuary AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 01:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16672405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvllorylvngdon/pseuds/mvllorylvngdon
Summary: After months in The Sanctuary, these little two are having a little trouble in paradise, Michael’s fear of losing Mallory has made him insecure about taking a huge, huge step for both. In spite of technically living as husband and wife, he is yet to propose to his favorite little angel. The only angel he has, in fact. The result? Well, Mr. Antichrist ends up hiding from his could-be-bride-to-be. Because, you know, that’s what adults do.





	Now, Won't You Believe Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Perhaps you will be wondering which was my very first published work for Millory, well I thought I might as well share it. It was a tiny One-Shot I posted on Tumblr to test the waters and see if I could capture these two's imaginary dynamic before I ventured into greater, more intricate plots. I came to notice I am just nine thousand words away from reaching the NaNoWriMo fifty thousand words challenge (even though I might be bending the rules because it's not a single work, rather many works scattered around and about) but, nonetheless, I was absurdly happy since I hadn't been able to write more than a page for almost two years.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this fluffy goodness and feel free to leave a kudos and bookmark! Love you lots.

**Another’s heart was much but one’s possession,**  that much he knew. Whatever impulse, whatever feeling he may cause in someone, that was entirely his doing, but in this case there was absolutely nothing he would say or do with the sole purpose of compelling her to stay. Not with her. In the name of everything he held dear, his mother, his world, himself, Michael simply could not bear the thought of keeping Mallory around against her will. And it was an intrusive thought that crept in even in the dead of night, when silence reigned as much as he, and chimed in to fill his brain with poisonous unpleasantness.

    Oh, but, why won’t she absolve him? Lift this impending curse from his very soul like she had with all darkness he held within, all that ended in destruction, to say the very least? He saw her, dressed in silk and tulle, head crowned by copper flowers, going about her day looking so heavenly it burned. It often reminded him that, however loving and committed she could be, she wasn’t his. She would never be his. And not because she wasn’t willing to give her everything to him, even her metaphorical wings, but because Michael had never, ever allowed neither of them to refer to the other as possessions; they were better than that. They were certainly better than that.

“So if I want to address you as my own, I can’t?” she had inquired, amused, half-smiling.

His tongue was burning, so tempted to speak his truth.

“Of course not” a cringe, Michael knew she could see right through him. He occupied himself by flicking through a book, even under the dim lights of their sanctuary —ever so similar to that room where he first saw her — “I see no cuffs, your name is not written anywhere.”

Mallory would just laugh, and how it made him adore her. For she knew much better. Liar, liar.

    That had happened days before, and still it echoed inside his mind, wondering where that ugly feeling came from and wondering just why it had crept on him like that. They were supposed to be safe, they were supposed to be happy, but in his short forsaken life there was a funny pattern of his that at the midst of peace and happiness left a trail of destruction. It didn’t matter if he had redeemed himself in a way, for all that mattered  Michael continued to be an omen of bad, really bad luck.

    You’ll see, there was a certain ring waiting deep inside a drawer that was never unlocked and by this day he couldn’t bring himself to grab it, let alone give it to the woman he had forged it for. His own doing, he said, it was time for him to create something he was genuinely proud of. Something made out of love and devotion, ready to symbolize in gold and diamond what his heart would bear until his bodily death.

    Why was he getting so anxious? Mallory had brought it all to a brink, she had made life out of nothingness and crisp oxygen out of toxic air. It was spreading, it was gaining strength. This world he planned on making and molding to his liking was slowly gaining someone else’s color. In shades of gray he had seen in, no good nor bad, no right nor wrong. But there was peach and lilac filtering through the seams and spreading towards the corners. His inky sketch was stained in watercolors, and that was her doing.

    Michael had guarded himself in his office, much larger and regal than the dim room at the Outpost 3, with an indoors balcony that looked down to books and works of art with a trademark fireplace centering one of the walls. The heat roared, lazily, yet shifted for a second as though a ghost of cold wind had blown into the room. He did not shift uncomfortably but he did shift his weight from one foot to the other, hands hovering the wood of the balcony’s railing.

    There was no need for him to turn, he felt her long before he got to touch her, long before he got to see her. It all came down to the very beginning, a song that kept repeating itself day after day. Except every time he listened to it, it felt as though it was new and every note was as drowsy as it was sweet.

    Yes, the fire from the pit got nothing on the warmth within her. Before she spoke, Mallory snaked her arms around his waist softly from behind and brought him close, the flowery scent of her perfume was dizzying him in the best of ways; next she planted a soft kiss on his back, before pressing her cheek to him just as delicately.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you” she lulled, quietly.  
  
“Yes, I’ve been busy”

    His voice sounded strange even to him, like it belonged to someone else. He inwardly pleaded for it not to sound in any way hostile, but looking down slightly he found her palms crossing his chest, from the way she was holding him it made it look like she had formed angel wings a couple inches below his heart. Her skin was fair and soft, her short nails were painted in a shade of burgundy that under that light seemed black. Mallory had several rings on her fingers, most of her fingers, but the one that was naked was, precisely, the one that stirred him the most. The ring finger. If only she knew he would call her cruel. The lack of any accessory only made it more obvious to him that he had to change that immediately. But there was this feeling inside him that made him believe maybe she liked it better that way, and that he liked it better that way forever. Why going against her wishes? He couldn’t. He couldn’t say no to Mallory, that was his curse.

    It was so hard to even think with someone so sweet and so warm so close to his heart in every meaning. She sighed deeply, he could guess her eyes were closed and her eyelashes were brushing his jacket. He did the same as reflex, feeling a void at the pit of his stomach as though he was about to fall.

“No shit” she giggled  
  
“Do you find my lack of spare time amusing, love?”  
  
“I find it obvious” the witch tilted her head, eyes finally open looking at him, even if he couldn’t see that from where he stood “you’ve been avoiding me lately like I had insulted you or something”

    Michael reacted at it, slowly tugging himself away from her touch, not aggressively, but to be able to turn and look at her, his hands were still flat on the railing, as much as he would have wished to stay in position and place them gently over hers. The look on his face was perplexed, for crying out loud, had he really been that obvious?

“I’ve only been out and an about for a day!” he excused himself, pathetically so.

Mallory was having none of it, with her know-it-all, entertained look “It’s been a week.”

   Why, yeah, it’s been a week.  The worst week of his life, for sure. Michael huffed at the mention of it and replayed all the times he changed his course just to avoid her, all the nights he held her close while she was fast asleep, him looking up at the ceiling with no desires to do the same. Same fucking drumming words inside his head. He had been rude to Mallory, maybe even crass, he hated how he reacted around her when he was nervous; he always made such a fool of himself, if there was someone capable of scaring him it was her. And she did it with no intention. The things she said, how she made him feel, it was terrifying.

  The truth is, he feared to lose her. He feared to lose her and life was a little too perfect now for him to believe it. His new people, they looked at him and there was a hint of fear in their eyes, distrust, so soon to call him and almighty leader, it was like they waited for him to snap and curse them all. But Mallory? They looked at her like she had placed the sun around a magical whip and pulled it up, bringing light back to their tar-black lives. He thoroughly shared the feeling.

   Just waiting on the day she’d wake up and realize this was not for her.  Now her arms were folded over the deep blue of her lace dress, her thin lips pursed as she waited for a word from him. Michael swallowed hard, and shook his head with his fingers attached to the bridge of his nose. How to tell, how to tell. It was so hard to show himself as vulnerable as he once desired to be. It simply brought back all those memories: Vivian, Constance, Tate, all those people he desperately needed and foolishly he lost. If only Mallory knew he feared to lose her so, maybe she would also leave. Everyone he ever cared for seemed to lose interest in him sooner or later, years before he would have done so much to prove himself; but there was no use in give her dead little rats or act his best around her, for there was darkness in her, too. Michael knew Mallory would ask him for no reassurance, but he needed it badly. It was an issue, he was aware.

  With a tsk of her tongue against the roof of her mouth she approached him once again, making the space between them disappear. He felt her sweet scent sweep him over, again, and lashed his arms to her waist the second she ran hers up his chest, cupping his face sweetly and cutting all space between them. Her lips were firm and vicious, but also kind, her kiss felt was just enough for him to loosen up his grip on his worries, as he brought himself to kiss her back just as happily, having missed the feeling too much to even remember when they had kissed last. Had it been that morning when she woke? Or the night before when they slept? He couldn’t remember, he simply knew it had been too long for his liking. Never again, he thought. Never again.

    And she knew something was troubling him, she knew that man too well. There was not a room, not a corner of his mind he hadn’t let her into, every single door was unlocked, however his mind was not a house but a maze, she had to run through the hallways to find her way in, and sometimes, only sometimes, she happened to walk into a wall. When their lips detached, breaths still mingled into a warm, drunken something, she gazed up at him — God, it always fucking wrecked her to look into those eyes — another shaky breath betrayed her and she let herself swim in the blues. His brow was lightly knitted, the spark in his eyes was dimmed with concern, cloudy, foggy, and though he tried to smile it wasn’t coming through.

“Aren’t cha gonna tell me what’s wrong?” she whispered, tightening her grip on him to encourage him.

“Nothing is wrong”, Michael insisted.

“That’s bullshit and you know it”  
  
“Mallie, won’t you give it a rest?”

    Her brows raised, he was whining, his voice even had a hint of annoyance in it. But it was himself he was annoyed by and she could tell it by the way he darted his eyes elsewhere instead of looking into hers. He was taller, considerably, she had to tilt her head back and her neck was hurting. But she wasn’t playing his same game, she started swinging side to side softly pursing her lips in a funny way with a straight face.

  You’re gonna look down, she thought. You’re gonna look down and you’re gonna see me making this stupid face and you’re gonna laugh. Mallory kept on doing so, Michael kept on averting her gaze like she was Medusa. Or else we’re fucked.

“Michaeeeeel…” she dragged out in this Exorcist kind of deep, throaty voice and she knew she had won when he scrunched his nose and blew air out of it with a little laugh. Her eyes were now open wide, her swinging was not as soft anymore, she was full-on tugging at his jacket while swinging from him like he was a jungle gym.

“Alright, okay, stop that” he caved in laughing.

She did not “What’s wrong?” she continued, still sounding like Linda Blair.

    At last he looked at her, and as soon as she saw that adoration she knew so well shine through his eyes she felt at peace. The smile lifting the corner of his lips was just as real, and she had to admit it gave her a tingle to see a bit of the dark color of her lipstick staining his lower lip ever so slightly. How he loved her, he definitely couldn’t lie to her if he wanted. But it was easier to answer with another question.

“Are you happy?” he said, shyly.

“You mean like here?”

“I mean with me”

“Absolutely”

    She laughed, but he did not do the same, instead he looked away again. She furrowed, self-conscious of her every action from the moment she arrived till she entered his office looking for him. What on Earth had made him think otherwise? Mallory was rather clingy at times but just because she loved him so, and she knew he loved it. She had tried, so hard, to give him all the love and affection she could and still he got all thoughtful

“Why’d you ask?” she whispered.

Michael flicked his gaze to her, back to the wall, back to her “I’ve done awful things”

“You have” she agreed.

“I’ve hurt awful lot of people”

“Why, yes”

“You can thank me for the state of the Earth”

She nodded in agreement, “Of course”

“Why would you stay with me?”

    Now it was her turn to look at him in disbelief. After all those months they had spent together she was starting to think he would get the hint, but, there was much he didn’t know, it seemed. Mallory scoffed lightly, frustrated, and walked towards the balcony before mirroring his action of pressing her hands to the railing, the look on her face showed her conflicted, was it something she hadn’t done yet?

    She stopped to think of her relationship. All of it. The feeling he gave her when he first entered that library with his eyes glued menacingly to their host, the oddity of his movements, the sound of his voice, the touch of his hands over her cheek. Even that awful, pale face that jumped at her before she cast it out in flames. Whatever happened later, well, that was a story of its own. She was focusing on what was recent, and lately it all had been sugar coated. There was so much she could see, the people around them, the stories they held, the pieces of her own, she was growing accustomed to this new world yet he kept on dragging traces of the old one. Why wouldn’t he let go? Oh, well, she knew of his pain. A hint of guilt ran through her as she bit her lip, feeling him shifting at his spot behind her.

“Because I made a decision, Michael” she confessed, softly, having wished her voice was not as weak. Every single day of her life ever since she had been so sure. So, so very sure. Was he not?

His breath was warm behind her, his voice much closer “And do you stand for it, still?” the sound of his voice, if well soft, had a firmness about it that resemble only steel. He took loyalty quite seriously, as did her, butterflies fluttered inside of her the moment his hands snaked around her waist and pressed tight, his face finding its rightful placed on the crook of her neck as he nuzzled blatantly. Oh, he was driving her crazy. “Huh?”

“You know I do” she answered, begging her heart to be still.

“Yeah, I know you do” once again he was soft and sweet, almost defeated yet convinced, like he had just reassured that to someone besides himself. His fears, perhaps.

The feathery touches of his lips grazing her skin brought her to close her eyes, leaning back into him to grant him more access, Mallory knew pretty well he could see right through her, and was happy to know she had nothing to hide. As for his secrets, well, none of them could harm her; let alone the one she didn’t know he was keeping, somewhere inside a black velvet box. They had each other, tough days, good days,  **they had each other…**

“Now, won’t you believe me?” she asked, their faces were so close they narrowed their eyes to take a look at each other under those dim amber lights. Soft smiles on both their faces, eyes that spoke a thousand words. Again she kissed his lips, hungrily this time but pretty damn slow. It was her who broke it before it escalated to a whole different level, not wanting to spoil how genuine it all felt. She kissed his nose, instead, and went on to spread a couple more over his jaw. She felt him smile.

**…and for now, and always, each other was enough.**


End file.
